


Afraid to Play?

by Clockwork



Series: Charms and Charmed [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, Legillimency, MACUSA, Pre-Movie, Pre-Series, Preseries, Romance, Romantic Moments, Slow Burn, Wizarding World, plot with plot, tragic build up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12857910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork/pseuds/Clockwork
Summary: Queenie and Percival's relationship continues to grow with clandestine meetings and playful teasing.





	Afraid to Play?

After Queenie had called out Percival about watching her, it quickly became a game the two of them shared. Perhaps others would not see the fun and enjoyment in it, but for Queenie it was positively delightful. Not only in the absolutely test of her skills that it was, but it was a constant reminder that she had the attention of one of the most sought after people in MACUSA. 

No longer was their game restricted to catching his gaze and assuring herself that he was allowing her to sense him. Now it was a matter of picking his thoughts out of the myriad of others she encountered throughout the day. 

Certainly she often picked up on others thinking about the lines of her dress, or the shape of her curves, but sometimes she might pick up something else. A comment about tea and it’s benefits over coffee. Or perhaps an invitation to lunch. Once merely an address. When she arrived Graves sat at a table outside at a cafe, his tea steaming from delicate china before him, and a single pink rose laying in front of the open chair.

It had been their first official date, not counting the late nights in his office, going over clothing designs and talking about the world around them. It had been their first, but not the last. Percival’s enjoyments were many and varied, and Queenie was more than willing to experience all that the city had to offer, both wizarding and muggle. 

So they attended the New York Philharmonic at Carnegie Hall, walking the city after linked arm in arm. An afternoon picnic was had at the Botanical Gardens. Then there was an architectural tour that included St Patrick’s Cathedral, the Brooklyn Bridge, and the Grace Church. While the buildings were lovely, and filled with such magic as only came with ancient places of religious fervor, it was the stories Graves told of the magical intent of the buildings that really held Queenie’s attention. 

The wizarding world held such vast and useful knowledge that there was no way for any one person to know it all, and yet Percival held so much information about the city around them that she gladly took it all in. While many might not think it with her perfect curls and rouged cheeks, Queenie prized knowledge. Learning about the wizarding world around them from the man who was designated to protect it was more than she might have otherwise hoped for. 

Neither discussed if others knew of their liaisons, nor did they make efforts to flaunt it. Within the walls of MACUSA they were professionals, keeping their distance and using legilimency to communicate when written missives might be circumspect. Only Tina knew directly who the man in Queenie’s life was, and neither sibling was willing to answers questions put to them about the mystery man. 

That afternoon as the sisters had just left the building when Queenie had felt something almost akin to a cool breeze brush through her mind. From anyone else and it would have been frightening, or at the very least unwelcome. Yet she knew the man behind it well, and the touch to her thoughts only made her smile as she paused a step. 

Tina too had known just what brought about that pause, leaning in to kiss her sister’s cheek before turning on heel to head home alone. A moment later a car pulled up, a gloved hand beckoning. 

Hours later, sated and fed and quite content, she found herself curled up on the plush sofa that sat before a roaring fire in Percival’s brownstone. Wrapped up in his robe, her bare feet a bit chilled but not thought of as she looked over the chessboard on the table before them with the same intensity that Graves did. He was playing “against the board”, using an enchantment to let it govern moves as the opposing player. Queenie was playing against herself, choosing moves on paper, even as she tried to discern Percival’s moves before he made them. A bit through quess work, a bit trying to still get past his defenses when she knew he hadn’t let them down for her.

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like?” 

He asked the words suddenly, glancing down at the top of her curls before sliding his arm around her. 

“Mmmm, I’m not wondering about what anything is like but this right here, so you’ll have to elaborate.”

“What it feels like when you’re trying to get in?”

Slowly she canted her head back to meet his gaze, giving her head enough of a shake that her hair bounced with the motion. 

“Honestly, nope. I normally don’t have to try. Even some that try and use enchantments and spells can’t often block me out. It takes training, not magic, to keep me out and most aren’t trained that well.” Admitting that even some that had trained were susceptible to her. “Are you going to tell me what it’s like or making me guess?”

“Now that is tempting,” he said, moving to take the sheet of paper from her that her guesses had been marked upon. Her fingers slipped from the paper, letting him take it. “But in truth, you’re different from most others.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she teased, smiling wide enough the corner of her eyes crinkled with her amusement. 

“Always so brash.” Smiling though as he gave a tug to one of her tousled curls. “As for how it feels, it’s almost like I can hear you knocking. Sometimes it’s soft, distant, like a memory of it. That’s often how it is when I see you throughout the day. You’re not trying, but it’s part of who you are, and so I can feel the echo of it as you go about your business.”

Again the soft reminders that what she was doing was important to him. It meant more to Queenie than she sometimes cared to admit, but she loved hearing about it. 

“And other times? Like now?”

Now when they both knew she was trying to push past his defenses. Now when she wasn’t trying to stay away, to let him work and not worrying about her accidentally overhearing what she shouldn’t. No more than he might worry about it before. It wasn’t as if all the higher ups didn’t know of her skills. Defending the President meant knowing all of that and so much more. 

“Now it’s like you’re banging against the door with an iron fist. Loud, demanding, and positively distracting,” he added, smirking as he leaned down to kiss her gently, perhaps to soften those words. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s how you would describe me on a normal day,” Queenie pointed out, taking the paper back from his grasp. “And mean it as a compliment.”

“I mean it as one now,” he admitted, not seeing why now would be any different, or why it wouldn’t be seen as a compliment either. Neither of them would pretend that Queenie was anyone or anything she wasn’t. 

“But you want me to stop so you can focus on your game?” It was a guess on her part, raising a questioning brow. 

“Quite the opposite, my dear. Keep trying. I find myself working harder to think of my moves, and therefore you might actually be helping me to become a better player.”

That lit up Queenie’s features, wriggling to snuggling in closer at his side. “You’re helping me too, you know.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’m getting a lot better at reading what your next move will be,” she admitted, waving the paper under his nose. “Those ticky marks are the times I’ve been right in predicting your next move, and I’m getting way better at it.”

Percival chuckled then, shifting to lean back against the arm of the couch as he pulled Queenie mostly onto his lap so that she’s lounging against his chest. 

“Why is that funny to you?” Asked as she taps his nose with the edge of the paper.

“Because while you’re legilimency is acute and stronger than many I’ve dealt with, especially for one untrained and a natural at it, it’s not your skills with it that are making you better at predicting my moves.”

“Oh? And just what do you think it is, Mister Head of Security?” Grinning at him though as she folded her hands on his chest to rest her chin atop her steepled fingers. 

“I _know_ it’s that you’ve been paying such close attention that you’re becoming a better player yourself. Promise to meet me here tomorrow night. I’ll plan dinner, and then I’ll set the board up in the dining room so that we can play against one another.”

Queenie squeaked. “You want me to play against the man in charge of protecting the entire city? I know the tactician you are. I know what that means, in case you thought I didn’t.” 

He never treated her that way, but every now and again the way Queenie was treated for her looks reared its ugly head.

“Quite the opposite, my Dear. I know you know that word, and I know you’re strong enough a player to give me a run for my money. Eventually you may even beat me. Unless, of course, you’re afraid to play.”

If she hadn’t been so stunned by the rest of his words, Queenie might have caught the sly way he finished that sentence. Instead, she played right into his desires.

“Afraid? Afraid? Did you just say that Queenie Goldstein was afraid? You’re lucky I don’t make you set that board up right now, Percival!”

Percival, not Perce or Percy as she often called him in private. Mr Graves in public, of course. 

He laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, his free hand tangling in her curls as he drew her in for a kiss.

“Oh no. Certainly not now. I have much better plans for now,” he murmured, his lips claiming hers tenderly as he waved his hand, sending the pieces from his smaller version of wizards chess sailing gracefully to their box.


End file.
